Apple Ballrooms
by hear-me-roar
Summary: What were Buffy and Spike thinking as they lay on the bed during Touched in Season 7? BS Please RR!


It hurt. To have her so close. Yet infinity could have fit into the space between them. They had fallen back into the dance. She used him and he pretended that she loved him. His hands were twined in her hair, holding on for dear life as he drifted through the sea of emotions that encompassed him.  
His goddess was asleep in his arms, holding him, her breast rising and falling as she slumbered. Her skin was hot against the deathly chill that pervaded his skin. He could hear the slow and regular beat of her heart and a low murmur as she snuggled closer to him.  
She was the one. Spike knew it with all his heart. He would never have someone who filled him, who made him feel so alive.. No, he wasn't alive, but god she made him feel that way, like he was William again.  
He rested his head against hers and closed his eyes, seeing images of times past playing on loop behind his eyelids. Time seemed to stand still, trapping him in his reverie. He drifted into sleep with dreams gracing his subconscious.  
  
Buffy laid in his arms wondering how she could let herself be here. She was ready to stand alone yet her she laid in the arms of her former lover. Her mind screamed at her to leave but she couldn't leave her alabaster sanctuary with its strong walls and endless pleasures. They couldn't understand how safe it made her feel. It felt as if all in the world could just wait a few more minutes.  
She felt him settle and she snuggled closer to him, breathing in his smoky scent. It was time to go. She hadn't a doubt that Spike would always have a piece of heart but it was a dark corner where she placed all the things she was ashamed of.  
She slipped out of Spike's arms and went to the desk that dominated one corner of the room, taking paper and a pen from it before scratching out a note.  
  
You know we can't do this. I can stand by myself now.  
I need to face what's become of me. I've always come  
to you so I can hide and you were my protector. My  
champion. I have to take that role now. But thanks for  
holding the reins. -Buffy  
  
She slipped on her jacket and took one last look at Spike, taking a moment to watch the moonlight play across his skin, turning it into spun silver, his hair star bright.  
He has a bigger part in all of this.. She heard Giles voice echo through the halls of her mind. She closed her eyes and retreated to her fantasy, opening the door where she loved Spike as much as he deserved. The vampire had it all wrong; it wasn't he who didn't deserve her. She didn't deserve him, his unending love. They sat under an apple tree covered with flowers sipping at dandelion wine sweetened with honey. The sun shown down on them and they were just laughing and talking, wiling the day away. She sighed and open her eyes as tear slid down her cheek.  
"I wish I could be what you want. Sometimes." she said miserably. She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Spike curled up on the bed. It was time to face Caleb.  
  
Spike heard the door close and curled up even tighter, clutching the blanket in his fists. Her words had stabbed him in the deepest chambers of his soul. He knew what she thought of him, how she was ashamed to be associated with him. How she regretted almost every moment of their time together. He bit his lip to keep from choking and then sat up suddenly. He struck out and slammed his fist into the wall leaving a sizeable hole in it as a testimony to his grief.  
"My dear, dear William."  
Spike stopped short and froze, his blood turning to ice.  
"I knew I couldn't save you. But you can."  
"What are you talking about Dru?" asked Spike as he turned on his sire.  
"The stars and I had quite a conversation the other day. They said that you were at your time. They weren't supposed to tell me, the moon will be quite upset at their gossiping."  
"Get to the point, pet." Dru turned on him, her eyes wide with prophesy and she turned her head up to study the stars even though the ceiling impeded her view.  
"You have a choice. You can save them all, and, of course, become the valiant hero. But you *will* die."  
"How-"Drusilla turned and pressed a nail that looked more like claw to his lips and shook her head at him.  
"Angelus has a present for you. A pretty bauble he found. It will magnify the seed that the slayer planted," said Dru as she laid a hand on his chest, "This will stop them all. The goodness will melt your bones and destroy your mind."  
"Like you, pet?"  
"Not like me. You'll go to the stars. You have a choice. You can live, let them all die."  
Spike stared a Dru for a moment before moving to the windowsill, letting the wind move through his stiff tresses. "She's the only one who can make me live. If I let her die I'm condemned. But I'm already damned, she won't recognize me.. She doesn't love me."  
"She has always had your heart," Dru said, disgust tinting her voice. "Have your slayer. And for all our sakes, eat it too," said Dru with a giggle.  
"GET OUT!" screamed Spike turning on her.  
"Oh, poor William. Has the lass put the horse out to pasture?"  
Before he could think he broke off a chair leg and had thrown it at her. The wood buried itself deep in her chest and she looked at him in surprise.  
"William?" Her form crumpled into ashes swept away by the moon. Spike stared at where she had stood before falling to his knees. In the slayer he had lost everything. She had led him back to William and had helped him take back the role he had so readily discarded. He had made him realize who he was. He owed her something for that.  
Besides that his soul had grown weary of this place. "Time to go," he whispered quietly. It was then that he noticed the note. He read it over and then let it drift to the floor.  
"I know, luv. You did the same to me," he said as he contemplated the paper at his feet. He headed for the door and headed back to the summer's house so that he could report to the Watcher. All tears and sweet sashaying, it was the dance they danced in the dark ballroom that they housed deep within their souls; where the closets housed their skeletons and buried the memories beneath apple trees. 


End file.
